The Hot Dogs Of War
by Red Witch
Summary: The Figgis Agency wages war against a hot dog vendor.


**I think Pam ate the disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters. Just some madness from my tiny little mind. This is pure insanity people. Just insanity that I had to get out of my tiny little brain.**

 **The Hot Dogs Of War **

"What are you guys **doing**?" Lana asked as she walked in on Ray and Cyril in the break room. There were bottles of alcohol on the table as well as a lot of blintzes and other foods. And both Ray and Cyril were passing a joint to each other.

"Well let's see Lana," Cyril sighed as he blew out some smoke. "My business has no clients and I'm running out of money faster than half the retail industry. So I made an executive decision. I'm getting drunk and wasted."

"It seemed appropriate for the occasion," Ray shrugged.

"Okay now all you guys are getting blitzed **every day** ," Lana told them. "As opposed to every **other** day. Admittedly not that much of a change but still…"

"Well it's not like Ms. Archer is here," Ray pointed out. "She's back at the hospital visiting Archer."

"When the bitch is away," Cyril snickered. "The mice will par-tay."

Lana sighed. "I hate to say it but maybe those fliers Pam keeps throwing around everywhere might come in handy again? Maybe we can talk to the other businesses on the street and ask if we can put them up in their stores or something?"

"That would be a bad idea," Cyril sighed. "Considering they would definitely say **no** and laugh in our faces."

"We aren't exactly on the best of terms with our neighbors," Ray groaned.

"Why?" Lana asked.

"Well off the top of my head," Cyril sighed. "There were the fires. The mini flood. The time we caused a power outage to the whole block. The time all those news trucks were parked all over the place in front of our building, taking up valuable parking space. You know? Because of the whole Deadly Velvet incident."

"Then there was the incident with Ms. Archer and the local business association," Ray added.

FLASHBACK!

"Let me see if I get this straight," Mallory sniffed at the assorted group of people in the bullpen of the Figgis Agency. "You expect me to pay extortion money so I can run a business here?"

"Technically it's my business…" Cyril spoke up. He was there as well.

"Quiet game Cyril!" Mallory shouted.

"It's just a small fee to be part of the neighborhood business association," A well-dressed man with black hair explained.

"Oh, I know **exactly** what kind of fees you Italians make up!" Mallory snapped.

"Albanian actually," The man blinked.

"Same difference!" Mallory huffed.

"Not really," Cyril and the man said at the same time.

"You want a fee for us working on this street?" Mallory snapped. "Fine! I'll get my checkbook!" She stormed into her office.

"Sorry about this," Cyril apologized. "She's just a little cranky because we just moved from New York. Hasn't gotten used to the time difference."

"It's two in the afternoon," A woman remarked. "How late does she sleep?"

"It's more a bar thing actually…" Cyril said sheepishly.

"Here's my checkbook you vultures!" Mallory stormed out waving her gun. "Who wants to go first?"

"AAAAAHHHHH!" The people ran screaming in terror.

"That's right assholes!" Mallory followed them waving her gun. "This will teach you to try and shake down Mallory Archer!"

"Oh, we are so **not** going to get any discounts at any restaurants on this block," Cyril sighed.

FLASHFORWARD!

"And then there was that **other incident** with Archer at the café next door," Ray added.

FLASHBACK!

Archer had pointed a gun at a terrified male barista. "I SAID I WANTED HALF FOAM ON MY LATTE DAMN IT!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"And then that other- **other** incident with Archer," Ray went on. "In front of the bank across the street."

FLASHBACK!

"Why the hell **can't** I park my car there?" Archer was shouting at both a tow-truck operator with a mustache and a bank manager. Archer's car was being towed.

"Because you parked in a handicapped spot!" The bank manager shouted.

"Hey this is a **corvette**!" Archer snapped. "A car this good deserves priorities! Hey! Hey you! Don't scratch the paint job Walugi!"

"Sir as I have told you **repeatedly** ," The bank manager fumed. "You can't park your car in a spot reserved for handicapped people!"

"Like it would kill them to wheel an extra twenty feet!" Archer snapped.

"You have a garage right across the street!" The bank manager pointed to the Figgis Agency. "Why don't you just leave your car there if you want to do business in my bank?"

"A," Archer raised a finger. "That doesn't merit a response. And B, I don't have an account with your bank. Like I'd put my money in your shithole."

"Well then why are you parking **here?** " The bank manager shouted.

"Uh because there's a halfway decent tapas bar **right there**!" Archer pointed next door to the bank. "DUH!"

"But you don't need to drive your car across the street when your building is right **there!"** The bank manager snapped.

"Nobody **walks** in LA!" Archer snapped as he walked away. "Get real loser!"

"YOU'RE WALKING AWAY RIGHT NOW!" The bank manager shouted.

"Only across the street to get my gun!" Archer snapped. "Damn it! I forgot it was in my desk!"

"I have no words," The bank manager blinked. "I have no words."

"They never do," Archer scoffed as he left.

FLASHFORWARD!

"So, we can cross off getting any kind of bank loan from there anytime soon?" Lana sighed.

"Pretty much yes," Cyril sighed. "Maybe when Hell freezes over? But until then…"

"Then there was that other-other- **other** incident with **both** Archer and his mother," Ray added. "At that tapas place."

FLASHBACK!

"It is not that bad!" Archer shouted at his mother as they sat at the bar. There were small plates of tapas in front of them as well as a half empty pitcher of sangria.

"Yes, it is Sterling!" Mallory shouted. "You would think after that stupid clown incident we would at least get a few references! But no! NOTHING!"

"Oh," Archer blinked. "I thought you were talking about the sangria."

"It's okay," Mallory waved. "My point is that this stupid scheme of yours is failing miserably! What a shock!"

"Hey, business is going to turn around any day soon and then we will be rolling in cash!" Archer snapped.

"That's exactly what you said about the cocaine cartel!" Mallory shouted.

" **You** came up with the cocaine cartel!" Archer shouted. "Yeah that was a real **winner** of an idea!"

"What?" The bartender did a double take.

"Hey, Sam Malone mind your own business!" Archer snapped. "Unless it's getting me another pitcher of sangria! **That** you can do!"

"At least his job actually **does** something!" Mallory glared at her son.

"Oh, here we go!" Archer threw up his hands. "What did **I do**?"

" **Nothing!"** Mallory shouted. "But ring up debt! As **usual!"**

"MY CAR IS A LEGITIMATE EXPENSE!" Archer shouted.

"IT'S AN EXTRAVIGANT EXPENSE FOR AN ILLEGITIMATE BASTARD!" Mallory shouted back.

"THAT TERM IS REDUNDANT AND YOU KNOW IT!" Archer shouted at Mallory. "It's either illegitimate or bastard! PICK **ONE!** "

"GET OUT OF MY RESTAURANT!" The owner shouted as he stormed up to them.

"Who are you talking to?" Archer blinked.

"Both of you! Out!" The owner snapped.

"Fine!" Archer snapped. "But I'm not paying because your tapas sucks and your sangria isn't up to par!"

"Come on Sterling," Mallory sniffed as she stood up. "Let's get out of here. Before this lousy cockroach infested restaurant burns to the **ground**!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"That little arson threat did not exactly endear us to the restaurant association," Cyril sighed. "Or the police."

"Not to mention that incident where Pam, Cheryl and Krieger turned a peaceful protest into a bare breasted riot," Ray added. "I would not be asking for a loan from **that** bank anytime soon."

"Or go to that tapas bar," Ray groaned. "Which didn't last long."

"It burned down," Cheryl giggled as she walked by the room.

"All the drunken incidents and yelling at The Burrito Barn," Ray added.

" **What** drunken incidents?" Lana asked.

"Well…" Cyril sighed.

FLASHBACK!

" _Wasted away again in Margaritaville…"_ Archer drunkenly danced around the Burrito Barn restaurant. _"Searching for my (BURRRP) lost shaker of salt!_ Salt! Salt….Salll…"

He then tripped and fell on the floor. "Salt!" Archer burped. "HA HA!"

FLASHBACK!

" _Wasted away again in Margaritaville!"_ Both Archer and Pam were drunkenly singing at a booth. The table in front of them was covered in empty glasses and bottles as well as piles of half-eaten food. _"Searching for my lost shaker of salt!"_

"SALT! SALT!" Archer chanted as he finished drinking a whole bottle of tequila. "SA…." He then passed out under the table.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Pam pointed and laughed.

FLASHBACK!

"Guys if you sing Margaritaville again I will strangle you with my tie," Cyril groaned half drunk. He was sitting at a booth with Ray, Pam, Krieger and Cheryl.

"Ehhh it's time to go anyway," Ray hiccupped. "Come on guys…"

"Okay lemmie just get some stuff to go," Pam told them as she walked to a nearby stand that had condiments and napkins on it.

Everyone stared at Pam as she stuffed loads of ketchup and hot sauce condiment packets into her purse.

"What?" Pam snapped as she left. "These are **complimentary**! Which means they're **free!** "

"YEAH!" Cheryl snapped as she grabbed the entire napkin holder full of napkins and walked out the door.

ANOTHER FLASHBACK!

"For God's sake woman!" Ron snapped as he got his burrito. "Just because this place isn't some hoity-toity gold star restaurant doesn't mean the food isn't good!"

"I can't believe instead of taking me out to dinner at a **real restaurant** ," Mallory bristled as she sat at the bar with her husband. "You're forcing me to eat at this greasy taco stand!"

"Well last I checked, Sweetheart…" Ron shouted. "I have the money! Which means **I** decide how to spend it! When you contribute **a dime** , you can decide how to spend it!"

"Don't call me a gold digger, Ron!" Mallory shouted back. "You don't have that much money!"

"I have more than **you** do," Ron snapped. "You vampire!"

"You don't know how good you have it!" Mallory snapped.

"I know how good I **had it** before I married **you**!" Ron shouted.

"God, I can't wait until you die!" Mallory shouted.

"Right back at you Sweetheart!" Ron shouted back.

Mallory smashed a bottle onto the table and started to threaten Ron. "You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me!"

"That's right!" Ron said dramatically. "Right in the heart bitch! Where you've been driving a knife in me for years!"

"Don't tempt me Ron!" Mallory shouted.

"SOMEBODY CALL THE COPS!" A waitress screamed.

"You do and I'll slice you to ribbons!" Mallory snarled. "Then I'll burn this place to the ground!"

YET ANOTHER FLASHBACK!

Mallory was at the bar again half drunk. "You know the only reason I don't burn this dump to the ground is because you make a decent sangria? At least better than the tapas bar. Which burned to the ground."

FLASHBACK AGAIN!

"I don't care what day you think it is!" Cheryl screamed half-drunk as she held sparklers in her hands. "It's Cinco De Mayo!"

"In June?" A waitress shouted.

"YOU ARE NOT MY SUPERVISOR!" Cheryl snapped as she waved a sparkler around. It hit a curtain nearby and set it on fire.

"Oh God!" Cyril groaned. He was there as well with Ray and Pam. "This is the tapas bar all over again!"

YET ANOTHER FLASHBACK!

"For the last time!" Cyril snapped at Cheryl at the same booth as before. "There are no such things as Vampire Academies! That's all made up crap to sell books!"

"You're all made up crap to sell books!" Cheryl smashed a bottle and threatened Cyril with it.

"AAAAHHH!" Cyril screamed as Cheryl chased him around with the broken bottle. Ray looked horrified. Archer was laughing his head off. Pam looked bored and took a drink. And Krieger was filming the whole thing on his phone.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Still don't know how arguing about vampires became a thing with us," Lana remarked. "I take it we are now banned from The Burrito Barn?"

"We are now banned from The Burrito Barn," Ray sighed. "As well as the bank across the street. And the dry cleaners on this block."

"The dry cleaners?" Lana was stunned. "What happened **there?"**

"Well Ms. Archer wasn't happy about how they cleaned her coat," Cyril sighed. "After throwing some racial slurs she pulled out her gun."

"We were lucky Mr. O'Brian didn't press charges," Ray groaned.

"That's pretty much on par for the course with Mallory," Lana sighed.

"And then there was that all you can eat restaurant that opened last week," Cyril sighed. "Three doors down from us."

"You mean the one that closed **this week**?" Lana asked.

"Yup," Ray sighed.

"Pam?" Lana asked with a sigh.

"Not just her," Cyril sighed.

FLASHBACK!

"Hey!" Krieger snapped at the owner of the restaurant. Piggly was there with him in all his green glowing glory. "You said you wanted to see the product!"

"I'm not buying radioactive pig meat!" A fat man with a mustache shouted. "Although I am severely tempted!"

Pam was finishing up a huge buffet. "What? It's all you can eat!"

"You are literally eating me out of business!" The man shouted. "And stop stealing my napkins!"

"They're complimentary!" Cheryl snapped as she grabbed a ton of napkins and started walking out the door. "Which means they're **free!"**

"Yeah!" Krieger snapped as he started stuffing his lab coat pockets with tiny ketchup packets.

"OOOINK!"

"AAAAAHH!" The fat man screamed as Piggly started chasing him.

"Piggly don't eat the man!" Krieger shouted. "You'll spoil your diet!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"Starting to get a picture of why we're not that popular on our block," Lana groaned.

"Also explains why we're never short of napkins," Ray added. "Or small packets of ketchup."

"Guys we have a problem!" Pam stormed in with Krieger.

"We have **several** problems," Cyril sighed as he took a drink. "Just put it on the list with all the others."

"You know that hot dog truck that just started selling hot dogs across the street yesterday?" Pam asked.

"No," Lana said.

"No," Cyril said at the same time.

"This is the first I've heard of it," Ray admitted.

"This is a _detective agency_!" Pam snapped. "How did you not notice what's on your own street?"

"Because we're not **food** detectives," Lana raised an eyebrow.

"Let me guess," Cyril sighed. "You did something and now we're banned from buying hotdogs from that truck?"

"However, will I go on?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"No!" Pam snapped. **"He** did something and when I went to call him out on it, he not only banned us from the truck, he threatened to sue us!"

"What did you **do?** " Lana snapped.

"It wasn't Pam!" Krieger protested.

"Okay Krieger," Lana amended. "What did **you** do?"

"It really wasn't us that started it!" Pam protested. "This time!"

"See the owner of that truck is Frank Furter," Krieger began. "Known as the Hot Dog King of LA with his new gourmet hot dog truck called Hot Dawgs."

"Not his real name by the way," Pam spoke up. "His real name is Weiner. But since that guy in New York ruined it he decided to change his name so it wouldn't tarnish his company."

Ray looked at Lana. "Kind of says something when your actions shame the name of anything associated with all kinds of sausage doesn't it?"

"That's not the point," Krieger told him.

"Yeah! Look at **this**!" Pam held up a purple flyer.

There was a picture of a familiar looking hound dog. Only he was wearing a hot dog costume instead of a detective outfit. "Weiner Dog says come to Hot Dawgs Food Truck," Lana read the flyer.

"He stole Furlock Bones!" Pam snapped. "He has to pay!"

"It does look a lot like Pam's flyers," Ray admitted.

"We told him Furlock was ours but he refused to see reason!" Krieger said. "Not only did he ban us from the hot dog truck, he says he's going to sue!"

"I'm guessing part of that is because a certain someone ate a lot of hot dogs and condiments and tried to get away without paying?" Lana sighed.

"Hey! I didn't even bring Piggly this time!" Krieger protested.

"I was talking about Pam," Lana looked at Pam.

"I find that highly offensive," Pam sniffed.

"But it is accurate," Krieger admitted.

"Hey! First of all, those mustard packets are complimentary!" Pam snapped. "Which means free!"

"One or two!" Ray protested. "Not the whole god damn supply!"

"And second," Pam went on. "The buy one get two free deal was right on his board! At two bucks a dog I'd be crazy not to spend a hundred dollars' worth!"

"Where did **you** get a hundred dollars?" Lana looked at Pam.

"Uhhh…" Pam paused. "Just sold some stuff on E-Bay."

"What kind of stuff?" Lana asked.

"Uhh…" Pam paused.

FLASHBACK!

"You got the stuff?" Pam was in her office at the computer.

"Right here," Ron held up a fur coat. "You sure she's not here?"

"Nah, she's visiting Archer all day," Pam waved. She took a picture of the coat. "Nice! This is gonna make us some mon-eeeeeyyyy!"

"It better," Ron groaned. "After all Mallory has spent I feel like I deserve something!"

"Just don't let Ms. Archer catch you selling her furs," Pam warned. "Or else she'll kill you. And me."

"One, she doesn't even know I **have** any of her furs," Ron told her. "She thinks the CIA took most of them. I just have them in a secret storage locker in Jersey she doesn't know about."

"Smart," Pam nodded. "Ms. Archer hates New Jersey. She'd never think to look there."

"And two," Ron went on. "That woman is already slowly killing me!"

"Hey as long as I get a cut and screw Ms. Archer over I don't care," Pam shrugged as she worked at the computer. "And now we play the waiting game."

"Good," Ron nodded. "Because if Mallory keeps spending my money I'm gonna have to play the bankruptcy game."

"Holy Fur-Snacks!" Pam whooped. "Someone already put in a bid of seventy-five bucks!"

"How much did you set the price?" Ron asked.

"Seventy," Pam said. "And now the price has jumped up to eighty. And we have like three days to go!"

"I'll be damned," Ron whistled. "This thing makes the black-market look like a dime store!"

"So, you got any more furs?" Pam asked.

"Oh yeah," Ron nodded.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Just selling some stuff," Pam admitted. "Lying around. Yeah that's the ticket. Just some stuff lying around."

"I don't even want to know," Lana sighed.

"Me neither," Cyril added.

"Ditto," Ray remarked.

"Look I'm just going to go talk to this Frank Hot Dog guy…" Cyril sighed as he stood up. "I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding."

"You're going to talk to that guy half drunk and half plastered?" Lana asked.

"Why not?" Cyril asked. "Near the end of my days as a public defender I went to trial half plastered. Won a lot more cases that way actually."

"I'd better go with you…" Lana sighed. "Someone has to have a working brain cell around here."

"Good then we can drink and get stoned," Krieger nodded as he sat down and took the toke from Ray.

"No! We need clear heads!" Pam snapped. "We need to come up with a plan of attack! An attack of fire and fury! That's what we need!"

"You're planning to go to war against a **hot dog truck**?" Ray blinked. "I'm out! Gay people have enough enemies as it is without starting a beef with processed beef."

"We are **not** going to war against a hot dog truck," Cyril told them as he and Lana left. "It will be fine."

Fifteen minutes later…

"Okay we're going to **war!"** Cyril snapped as they returned to the bullpen.

"It did not go well," Lana sighed.

"Really?" Pam looked at them. "What a shock. So how did the Great White Dope screw this up?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Cyril snapped. "That man is unreasonable! And unfortunately, very good at copyright law."

"Even though you came up with Furlock Bones, Pam," Lana sighed. "He trademarked his dog first."

"And he's planning to **sue us!"** Cyril snapped.

"That rat bastard!" Pam snapped. "We gotta do something!"

"Damn right!" Cyril snapped. "We can't afford to lose any more money! This could put us out of business!"

"Oh Ms. Archer is gonna flip her lid when she hears about this," Ray groaned.

"No!" Cyril snapped. "We are **not** going to tell Ms. Archer about this! We can't just run to her every time there's a problem! I'm in charge of this agency! This is **my agency!** I have to step up and do something to pull our asses **out** of the fire!"

"Yeah!" Krieger and Ray shouted.

"That's showing some initiative!" Pam nodded. "It's about damn time you found your balls Cyril!"

"Damn right! So what do we do?" Cyril asked.

" **Brilliant leadership** as always Cyril," Pam groaned. "Fortunately, I have a plan! Here's what we're going to do! First I'm going to get Cheryl…Where is she?"

"Passed out sniffing glue again in the copy room," Ray groaned. "She should be waking up soon…"

"Good we're going to need her for the first strike…" Pam grinned. "This is gonna be good!"

Later that day…

"This is **lame** ," Lana groaned as the members of the Figgis Agency looked out the window onto the street below. "Even for us! Especially for us!"

"I thought it was fun," Cheryl giggled.

"Trust me this will work," Pam waved.

"Sugar in the gas tank?" Cyril looked at her. " **That's** your master plan, Patton?"

"This is only the first salvo in a war," Pam said. "A way of establishing a beach head!"

"Really?" Cheryl snorted. "You should have just…"

"I said **beach** head Cheryl!" Pam snapped.

"Oh," Cheryl realized. "Never mind."

"Okay so to recap," Lana sighed. "Sending Cheryl to flirt with Frank Furter's assistant and then sneak sugar into his gas tank while the owner of the truck went to the bank across the street…What exactly does **that** accomplish?"

"It clogs the fuel system and ruins the engine over time," Pam said. "I was going to use sand but I didn't have any sand."

"Over time?" Ray asked. "How much time?"

"Longer than you'd think," Krieger shrugged.

"I always thought that was a myth," Cyril said.

"Kind of," Krieger shrugged. "It's more hit or miss. It can or can't make a mess. And if it does it takes a long time."

"Why didn't you just pour water into the gas tank?" Cyril asked. "That would have flooded the fuel lines and caused real damage!"

"Oh, I should have thought of that," Pam blinked.

"Good thing I did that too," Cheryl nodded. Everyone looked at her. "It's what I did to Mindy Butterscone's car when she beat me out for cheerleading squad. And the head cheerleader's car. And the bus for the entire cheerleading team when they went to regionals."

"I'm guessing you weren't exactly Miss Popularity in high school, were you?" Ray groaned.

"Yes, I was!" Cheryl snapped. "I made sure the yearbook committee put that in. They knew better than to cross me. After what happened to their last editor."

"Okay mild vandalism and threats aside…" Lana groaned. "We need to think of something a little more permanent to handle this situation."

VRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

SCREEEEEEEEEECH!

"MY TRUCK!" A man screamed as the hot dog truck sped down the road with flames coming out of the tailpipe like a rocket engine.

VRRRRRRRRRRRRROOM!

CRASH!

"How about **that**?" Ray blinked.

"Okay that was a tad unexpected," Krieger blinked. "Uh oh…"

"WHAT?" Cyril glared at him.

"I don't think we put sugar in that guy's gas tank," Krieger remarked.

"NO SHIT!" Ray snapped. "What the hell did you put in there?"

"Uhh…." Krieger began.

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

FOOOOOOOOM!

"HA HA HA!" Cheryl jumped up and down with glee. "The hot dog truck crashed into a building and blew it up! LOOK AT THE FIRE! EEEEEEE!"

"It crashed into and destroyed that new vegan health store down the block," Krieger blinked. "Talk about irony."

"Oh the vegan-ity!" Cheryl laughed. "HA!"

"Ehhh…" Pam shrugged.

"What is that falling from the **sky**?" Lana gasped.

"I think those are…?" Cyril gasped. "Flaming hot dogs!"

"Eh a little too well done for me," Pam shrugged.

"So we just took out two businesses in one shot," Lana groaned. "That has to be some kind of record."

"Possibly more," Ray winced. "Some of those hot dogs are lighting up trees and…Yeah. There goes an awning on another store."

"Pam…" Krieger looked at her. "Where **exactly** did you get the sugar?"

"From Cheryl," Pam pointed. "Cheryl where did **you** get the sugar?"

"From a shelf in Krieger's lab," Cheryl shrugged.

"Why did you get it there instead of from the **break room**?" Ray shouted.

"There was sugar in the break room?" Cheryl asked.

"Just show us what you used!" Cyril snapped.

"Okay! Jesus!" Cheryl groaned. "I have it right here."

She showed them. "See? It even **says** sugar! And look! Inside is harmless green glowing sugar!"

"Green…?" Lana did a double take.

"Glowing?" Ray's voice went higher.

"KRIEGER!" Everyone shouted.

"Okay I see what went wrong here," Krieger winced. "Yeah this is probably my bad."

" _PROBABLY?"_ Ray's voice went even higher.

"Couple things…" Lana winced. "Cheryl first…Sugar isn't **green or glows**! HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT IT WAS SUGAR?"

"Well the box **said sugar**!" Cheryl snapped. "And I didn't look inside it until I started pouring it into the gas tank! And I was rushed! Besides I thought it was one of those designer sugars!"

"Designer…" Lana shook her head. "Never mind. KRIEGER WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SHIT?"

"Because it sure ain't sugar," Ray remarked. "Sugar!"

"It was an experiment I put on the back burner," Krieger waved. "Some kind of new form of energy or drug or energy drug. I wasn't sure what."

"I can take an educated guess!" Cyril pointed to the fire down the street. "Judging by the **fire!** "

"Yeah it definitely has potential as a high-power explosive," Krieger nodded.

FOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"I think we've gone beyond potential," Pam blinked.

"Krieger why the hell did you put an experimental explosive in a box of sugar?" Cyril shouted.

"Because my flour bag was full of slightly dented protons," Krieger told him. "Duh!"

"Right," Cyril groaned. "What was I **thinking?"**

"Speaking of not thinking…" Lana glared at both Cheryl and Krieger.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Wow look at that thing burn," Pam blinked.

"I also used some Krieger Springs water just in case," Cheryl grinned.

"That would definitely do it," Krieger winced.

"I thought I told you to get rid of that shit weeks ago?" Cyril shouted.

"I was getting around to it!" Krieger snapped. "It's not like I could just pour it down the drain!"

"Yes, why ruin the sewers with your fake water?" Ray snapped sarcastically. "It would be a shame to poison all the shit that runs in there!"

"Ray I hate to say it but maybe it's just as well Krieger didn't," Pam groaned. "With our luck, the whole city would burn down!"

"Instead of the **block** is burning down!" Ray groaned. "Some of those other stores are on fire now."

"And the hot dog guy's assistant," Pam pointed. "Stop, drop and roll you moron!"

"Oh look," Cyril pointed. "The owner of the vegan store is now fighting the owner of the hot dog truck. And just got punched out by the hot dog guy."

"And here come the cops and the firemen," Cheryl giggled. "This is a **great day!"**

"Oh God…" Lana groaned. " _Brilliant idea_ to **not** call Mallory, Cyril! Just f#$$#$#ing **brilliant!** "

"Oh **shut up** , Lana!" Cyril snapped.

"Both of you **shut up!"** Cheryl snapped. "It's hard to hear the screams!"

"Well I see you won the war against processed meats," Ray quipped. "What's next? Firebombing the local Dairy Queen? A tactical air strike against Wing Kingdom? An invasion of McDonald's? You want to burn Ronald McDonald at the stake?"

" **Can** we?" Cheryl asked cheerfully.

"NO!" Everyone shouted.

"Lame!" Cheryl pouted and crossed her arms.

"Guys," Lana groaned. "Nobody tell Mallory about this! I can't believe I am saying this, but I am saying this. If anybody asks…We were at a bar all day!"

"Good idea!" Ray turned around.

"Very good!" Pam agreed as the others started to leave.

"Wait for me!" Cyril shouted as they ran out.

"Oh what the hell…?" Lana sighed as she followed them.

The following day…

"Good morning morons," Mallory walked in to find the members of the Figgis Agency in the bullpen. "There's no change in Sterling's condition yet. I just came in to check in with you before going to the hospital again."

"No need Mallory," Cyril said calmly as he drank some coffee. "Everything is fine. Just fine." He then took a bottle of scotch and poured some scotch into his coffee. "Just fine."

"Really?" Mallory raised an eyebrow. "So, _nothing happened_ yesterday?"

"Not really no," Lana said.

"Pretty dull actually," Pam shrugged as she read a magazine.

"Terribly dull," Cyril sighed. He downed his coffee. Then he simply started drinking from the bottle.

"If it was so dull then why is Cyril drinking scotch at this time of day?" Mallory asked.

"Uh…" Cyril began. "Because I'm an alcoholic. What? Is that suddenly a **crime** in this office?"

"No," Mallory said. "But you usually only drink scotch in the morning when a crime has been **committed**. By the members of **this office**."

"Ffftt!" Cyril sputtered. "That's just crazy. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy. I'm just a drunk. Yeah. Just a drunk."

"I also happened to notice an unusual amount of carnage on the street as I drove in," Mallory's eyes narrowed.

"Really?" Ray said innocently. "I didn't notice anything unusual."

"You didn't notice the burned down building down the street?" Mallory asked casually. "The one with the burned down truck in the middle of it? The smell of smoke in the air? Burned awnings on other buildings? All that **police tape**?"

"Well it is LA," Ray shrugged. "I mean come on, Ms. Archer. Crime happens all the time around here."

"I know," Lana added. "Just all the time in this city."

"Another day," Pam said casually. "Another murder. Another fire. Blah, blah, blah…"

"And people say New York is a crime magnet," Krieger nodded.

"You expect me to believe," Mallory gave them a look. "That you idiots didn't notice what was going on **your own street**? That a **detective agency** _didn't notice_ **anything** happen yesterday?"

"What do we look like?" Krieger asked. "The arson squad?"

"What did you idiots **do?** " Mallory asked.

"Nothing but go to a bar," Cyril said. "That's our story and we're sticking with it."

"We totally didn't blow up a hot dog truck that was trying to sue us," Cheryl said cheerfully.

"Smooth Ex-Lax," Pam groaned. "Real smooth."

"Is that also why the entire street smells like burnt hot dogs?" Mallory asked.

"Pretty much yes," Cyril sighed.

"And none of you thought to **call me**?" Mallory shouted.

"Cyril pulled an executive decision," Lana said sarcastically.

"Thanks a lot Lana Suck Up!" Cyril snapped. "She didn't call either!"

"You said you could handle it Mister Macho Manager!" Lana snapped.

"Obviously I **couldn't!"** Cyril snapped back. "And don't blame me where the fault lies in Krieger, Cheryl and Pam! IN THAT ORDER!"

"Why am I first?" Krieger snapped.

"Who puts god damned experimental crap in a sugar box?" Pam snapped.

"Because I had other crap in the flour bag! I went over this yesterday!" Krieger snapped. "Besides it was **your plan** to put sugar in that guy's tank! And you sent Cheryl over to do your dirty work!"

"She also poured in your Krieger Springs shit into the fuel tank!" Pam snapped.

"She's the one who did it!" Krieger shouted. "Without any of us telling her to!"

"Because it's common sense to fill the fuel lines with water to damage the car over sugar!" Cheryl snapped. "Come on people! It's common knowledge!"

"No, it's not," Lana looked at her. "Who are you? Myth Busters?"

"You know what?" Mallory turned around. "I **don't care**! I just **don't care!** My son is in a coma and I don't care about what idiocy you idiots do anymore!"

"Well if it will make you feel any better," Cyril said nervously. "The owner of the hot dog truck was arrested for assault and attempted murder and manslaughter. So…He won't have time to sue us. He has his own legal problems to deal with."

"That reminds me," Pam spoke up. "I totally gotta trademark Furlock Bones sometime this week."

"Apparently he and that vegan shop owner had some kind of fight earlier so…" Cyril went on. "They totally pinned it on him as some kind of attack."

"How does that news tidbit supposed to make me feel **better?** " Mallory asked as she turned around. "If anything, it makes me an accessory **after the fact**! Thanks a **lot** Cyril!"

"Well…" Cyril paused. "You make us do crimes for you all the time! Like the Italian Prime Minister!"

"Yeah!" Pam added. "At least that hot dog guy's assistant's death was **accidental!** Not **on purpose** like the Italian Prime Minister!"

"How long are you people going to…?" Mallory was frustrated. "No. I just **don't care** anymore! I'm going! And I don't care what you idiots do short of burning down the building! Because that is resolved for me when I finally have had enough of **you idiots**!" She stormed out of the building.

"Wow," Ray blinked. "She took that a lot better than I thought she would."

"Yeah, I think she's really worried about Archer," Pam nodded.

"I'm worried about the amount of crimes we've been committing," Cyril sighed as he took another drink from the bottle. "And the fact that I've actually **become** an alcoholic."


End file.
